


Flowers

by greekowl87



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Cancer, Cancer Arc, F/M, memeto mori, xfficchallenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 19:29:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10928493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greekowl87/pseuds/greekowl87
Summary: There was a 'May' challenge by either @leiascully or @xfficchallenges on Tumblr. I can't remember.Mulder reflects bringing flowers in 'Memento Mori'.





	Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The usual, I own nothing, merely borrowing. Obviously, I don’t own the dialogue of ‘Memento Mori’
> 
> A/N: I think there was a challenge awhile back by @leiascully or @xfficchallenges about ‘May’.And I attempted it. While not a 100 percent sure I have the right challenge, I wrote something. This is it. [Transcript](http://www.insidethex.co.uk/transcrp/scrp415.htm) help here.

Flowers. It began with flowers. Something about April showers brings May flowers. New life and rebirth after the dead of winter.

He remembered getting her call. He didn’t remember what he had been doing though. He just remembered getting her call.

Mulder, it’s me. I need to talk to you. It can’t wait. Can you get here in the next hour? No. I’m not dying. I just… Mulder, please just get here quickly. You’re the only one I’ve called about this.

He closed his eyes as he sat in his car and pulled the keys out the ignition.

No. I’m not dying.

Those words ringed in his ears.

Just like that. I’m fine, Mulder.

Mulder’s hunches were never wrong. Almost never. But he had a hunch that something was wrong. Very wrong. He looked at the poor excuse of flowers he bought at a 24-hour pharmacy. Why did he bring her flowers? Flowers was something you brought for happy occasions like a celebration. Or a funeral. He closed his eyes tightly. Scully wasn’t dying. The thought without her in his life terrified him. He did not want to even fathom it.

Four years ago she had marched into his life, on orders, to debunk his life’s work. He thought she was a spy. But she was so much more.

Did he love her?

He opened his eyes and closed them again, pinching the bridge of his nose. Not now, he groaned inwardly. Scully needed him. He remembered her message.

You’re the only one I’ve called–

He sighed and grabbed the poor excuse of a bouquet of flowers. He locked the car and squared his shoulders. He could do this. He had to do this. Finding his way through the hospital was not hard. He had been in a thousand before. All he had to do was flash is his badge and say Scully’s name. But it probably looked weird carrying the flowers.

Oncology.

He hesitated at the door. Cancer. Cancer. His mind raced. Scully had cancer. He thought of the stereotypical cancer patient, frail, weak, and hairless. No. His Scully was stronger than that. Stronger than him. He took a deep breath. Pushing the double doors open he followed the room numbers to where Scully was. The flowers were clutched tightly in his hand and decided at the last minute to put it behind his back but hesitated at the last moment.

“Scully? I uh, stole these from some guy with a broken leg down the hall. He uh, won’t be able to catch me.” He paused, looking beyond her at the x-rays illuminated against the wall. “How ya doing?”

“I guess that’s the question. Actually, I feel fine.”

Fine. That damn word. That damn adverb.

“What uh, what exactly are we looking at here?”

He resisted the temptation to touch the x-ray and then her face as if confirming the inevitable truth.

“It’s what’s called nasopharengeal mass. It’s a small growth between the superior conchea and the sinoidal sinus.”

Medical terms. He inwardly cringed. She was on the defensive.

“A growth?”

“A tumor. You’re the only one I’ve called.”

Tumor. He was the only one she called. He resisted touching her again against the cheek bone, almost wishing the tumor away. He cast a brief glance at the flowers; May flowers bring life…April rain. She had to live through this. There had to be a way.

“Is it operable?”

“No.”

“But it’s treatable.”

“The truth is that the type and placement of the tumor make it difficult, to the extreme.”

He felt his hope crumbling.

“I refuse to believe that, I..”

“For all times I have said that to you I am as certain of this as you have ever been. I have cancer. It is a mass on the wall between my sinus and cerebrum. If it pushes into my brain statistically there is about zero chance of survival.”

Zero chance.

“I don’t accept that. Th..there must be some people who have received treatment for this, we..can….”

“Yes, there are.”

He didn’t remember the last few moments after that until they exited the room. She clutched the flowers in her left hand. They walked in sync with each other, honed after four years of practice. Scully paused briefly as if trying to disguise something wrong, but she grasped his free hand and held tightly with her right hand. The event did not go unnoticed. She looked at her heels, then the flowers, and then Mulder himself.

“I’m glad you’re here, Mulder. Thank you.”

Mulder squeezed her hand before pulling her into a tight embrace. “I’m always here for you, Scully,” he breathed.

She relaxed briefly against him, accepting the hug. Mulder’s eyes flickered to the flowers in her hands.

April rains bring May flowers. He only hoped his flowers kept her alive for one more day.


End file.
